


Spencer a.k.a Sauro

by WoodsofTwi



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Homeless spencer reid, Hurt Spencer Reid, Mutant!Spencer, Mutants, On the Run, Spencer Reid - Freeform, Young Spencer Reid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodsofTwi/pseuds/WoodsofTwi
Summary: THIS IS UNFINISHED WORK THAT I WILL NOT BE COMING BACK TO! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!Spencer lived a rough life as a new mutant in an unfamiliar area. With no family, and no sense of security, he was constantly on the run from people who knew his past. With abilities that couldn't be controlled in a world of fending for yourself, he kept to himself most of the time.
Kudos: 16





	Spencer a.k.a Sauro

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, this is something I wrote a while ago that I have lost the plot for. I have no recollection of where I was taking this story so this is all that it ever will be. Enjoy it for what it.  
> P.S: This has not been beta read, accidents have happened. -Woods.

“Come on, Diana!” The doctor encouraged. “You’re almost there!”

  
The room was full of shouts and commands from nurses and doctor alike, yet the one encouragement coming from Diana’s left, right near her ear, was truly the only one she could hear in her pain induced state.  
“That’s it honey, you’ve got this.” Her husband, William, told her. “Just a little more, and he’ll be here.”

  
Diana gasped and gave the one final push to finally break the dam leading to the first of many wails coming from the newborn. Just the sound on its own was enough to spring tears of happiness to the new parents.  
“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Reid, welcome your new little boy to the world.” One of the nurses gently laid the sobbing child onto the chest of Diana, giving her the first look at her boy.

  
William gently rested a hand on the child’s back, soothing him as he crouched down to the same height as the boy, “Absolutely beautiful,” William whispered. Watching as the child yelled, face blotched with red.

  
The new mother rested a soft hand on her little boy’s head, her eyes unfocused as she took in the sight of the boy. Soft round cheeks, with a nose that faintly resembled that of her husband. She couldn’t help but feel the familiar nagging at the back of her mind, the same one that attested to all the mental problems that she faced since young adulthood. Yet as the nagging morphed the scene in front of her, she saw the faint indentations on her child’s face morph.

  
First it was only a few near the faint hairline of the child, however, they slowly grew along the sides of his face and neck until they were almost everywhere on his tiny, wriggling, body. Diana watched with unblinking eyes, her heart beating in her chest as the indentations pushed through the skin effortlessly. Formations of scales darkened into a soft caramel color with a gentle hue of gold that reflected the setting sun wonderfully.

  
Diana blinked away few tears, yet the moment her eyes flickered back open, the markings were gone, as if they had never been there in the first place. She blinked again, hoping for the same magic to happen again, yet as nothing did happen, she began to feel the nagging in her head dissipate.

  
“Honey?”

  
A glance towards her husbands knowing eyes had Diana certain that he noticed her slip into, as he calls them, ‘episodes’.

  
“Well Diana?” Said the nurse.

  
Diana never moved her eyes away from the child laying on her chest, “Spencer,” she murmured no louder than for her to hear, “My dear Spencer, I am sorry.”

  
As the child was removed from her chest by the staff for a cleaning and checkup, Diana watched with her heart in her stomach as the young boy’s future weighed heavily in her mind. The boy, no older than even a few minutes was already doomed to the life was born into, and Diana could not help to feel responsible for the child’s future suffering.

  
William looked at his wife, still with tears down her face as she watches their child be cleaned by the nurses. He could see the far-away look in the glassy blue eyes and the fear that consumed them.  
Something was wrong. A glance towards the newborn showed nothing out of order, yet William could see that something was amiss.  
Oh, how did hope that this child was not a mistake like he originally thought.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

  
  
A ten-year-old Spencer stood in the finicky light of the bathroom, an all too accurate representation of himself watched him through the mirror. Gently, he pushed up his low-hanging hair and ran his fingertips over the barely noticeable bumps on his temples. Very recently did he start to feel a slight itch on those spots, almost like a piece of his untamable hair was tickling him, yet it would never go away. However, now as he looked closely in the mirror, he knew that it was never actually his hair, yet something different, something unexplainable for the overly intelligent boy.

  
“Spencer! Get out here, now!”

  
The familiar sound of his father’s bellowing voice had him scrambling to re-flatten as much as his hair as possible before he was scurrying out of the bathroom and into the living room, where his father was standing and waiting.  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing in there for so long?” William’s voice echoed throughout the room, and Spencer wished that the voice didn’t travel to the back bedroom that his mother was resting in.

  
Quick for a response, Spencer blurted the most reasonable thing he could think, “I was going to the bathroom.”

  
William rolled his eyes from the likely excuse, yet didn’t go any further, instead he diverted topics. “I am going out for the night, do not expect me back until next afternoon at the earliest.”

  
Young Spencer’s brows furrowed in confusion, “What about Mom and I?”

  
“Fend for yourselves.”

  
William went to walk out the door, going to pick up the briefcase that he normally used for work, before he was stopped by the boy again, “But Mom isn’t having a good night, can’t you stay for just a little?”

  
The father stopped halfway out the door and without a glance, spoke to his son in an eerily flat voice that was not like the previously, common, shout, “I said, Fend for yourself.” With that, William stepped over the same threshold that he and Diana had originally stepped over with their new born child. The same child now on the inside watching his father leave.

  
Spencer flinched as the door slammed shut. Frozen to his spot, he listened for the distinct sound of his father’s car start up and leave the driveway. It wasn’t until the engine faded into the other sounds of the night did Spencer move to the kitchen to fix something that would fill his mother’s ever-shrinking stomach.

  
The brilliant boy’s mind ran through the calorie count for the miniscule selection of edible food that was available to him and his mother, looking for the nutrition that his mother needed in order to survive with her episodes plaguing her so much more than ever before.

  
Spencer sighed to himself and put together the best he could find and brought it to his mother who was still reading in bed at 7 o’clock at night. “Mom, I brought you something to snack on while you read.”

  
Diana wrinkled her eyebrows in the same way that someone would when annoyed by a fly but said nothing as her son placed the plate on the side table, next to the glass of untouched water that Spencer had brought there earlier in the day.  
The boy said no more as he left the room quietly, as not to disturb his ill mother from her book. He simply closed the door and retreated to his stale room and sat down to do his homework for his classes. If he wants to graduate as soon as possible, he would need to do some more before it got too late for school tomorrow.

  
Spencer sighed once more as he thought of the bullies at school who would no doubt be there tomorrow to harass him once more, he only hoped that they didn’t notice the bumps forming on his head.

  
As the brown-haired boy sat on his bed and pulled out his work for the night, another itch on his temple had his hand subconsciously going to rub at the spot under the hair there, not even realizing the single scale that had begun to push through to the forefront of his skin.

  
Currently soft like skin and darker than his own hair, did the scale present itself, almost blending in with his hair; Almost.

  
By 12, almost 13, Spencer had finished high school and was trying his best to support himself and his mother, while also trying to entertain the thought of going to college. Yet with barely any money to buy household supplies, Spencer dropped that idea rather quickly, and instead focused most of his efforts on his mother and his ever-growing feat of trying to cover the scales on his face.

  
It was clear that Spencer was a mutant, however even at his age he had yet to fully come into his abilities. Though Spencer was not fully concerned about his later blooming, he still didn’t like knowing so little about who his is as a mutant. As far as he was concerned, the later he bloomed into his mutant abilities, the less time he would have to train himself into hiding his abilities.

  
Yet, that did not stop the nearly teenage boy from researching into the already known abilities of other mutants on record. Mutants a part of the X-Men such as Professor X, Cyclops, Phoenix, and Storm all had abilities that had plausible explanations and causes that have been recorded and studied. Even Angel had his physical mutation logged and calculated, yet Spencer could do none of the sort simply because had he had no idea where his mutation could be.

  
Frustrated, the boy sat back in the library seat that he had proudly claimed as his own from the first day he stepped foot into the building, and gently closed the book of mutations shut. His hands ran down his face, carefully as to not disturb his hair that would cover the scales on his temples and forehead and thought about what to do next.

  
Currently he was at a standstill in life, barely making it by with what little money he could scrounge up, with no college in line, and a mother to take care of. He had his hands full.  
A soft sigh left Spencer as he reopened his eyes towards the roof of the local library, letting his eyes focus and blur at will behind his chunky glasses. It wasn’t until he could hear the sweet librarian woman shuffle towards him that he looked away from the roof.

  
“I am sorry to disturb you Spencer, but I need to close up for the tonight.” The elderly woman spoke with a kind but saddened smile, obviously apologetic about having to disrupt the brilliant boy.

  
Spencer sat up a bit more and smiled, “Not a problem Miss Caddy, I need to get home anyway.” He went to gather his few meager possessions, meeting Miss Caddy by the front doors.

  
She smiled, “Are you sure you don’t want a ride home? You know I don’t mind.”

  
He shook his head, “No ma’am, I’m alright.” Though he liked Miss Caddy, the woman had a heavy foot, and a shaky hand that didn’t bode well for his already cautious demeanor.

  
A simple nod at each other had them both walking in opposite directions. Spencer sped off towards the closest intersection, though he felt guilty about spending so much time for his own he knew he would need to make it home soon to convince his mother to eat and take her medicine on time. He shook his head at his own stupidity, he knows better than to push the time like so.

  
It wasn’t until he was a block from his house that he felt the intense itching at his temple that reminded him about how risky it was to even leave the house with such a noticeable mutation. He made sure to make a mental note to find a better way to cover his head before going outside again.

  
The moment he was in his home and the door was shut and locked behind him did Spencer reach up to rub at the scales on his temple. He was always willing to be less strict on himself while at home.

  
Diana’s footsteps were soft against the carpeted floor, yet Spencer’s trained ears could hear her coming from the back bedroom and just the sound alone was enough to make him smile. Maybe she wasn’t in the middle of one of her episodes.  
She stepped around the corner, wearing a simple outfit for bed and a cup of something steaming in her hands. Her soft smile had Spencer grinning from ear to ear, happy to see this side of his mother after so long.

  
“Come here baby.” She said as she opened her unoccupied arm for him to give her a side hug, which Spencer quickly slid into with an arm of his own around her waist.

  
They stood in that position for longer than either of them could remember, in the comfort of each other. Spencer rested his head against his mother’s shoulder, and Diana moved her arm off his shoulder to push some of his hair away from his eyes, “You’ll need a haircut soon, how can you see behind all this?”

  
Spencer just shrugged with his eyes shut, not really paying attention to what she was saying.

  
It wasn’t until Diana felt the beginning of a cluster of scales near his hairline that her body went stiff, raising alarm for Spencer. Immediately Diana push away from him to see where the hair that was originally laying flat, now showed a cluster of scales that reflected the ceiling light.

  
Spencer could see as her eyes turned angry, almost disbelieving, of the boy in front of her, “Who the hell do you think you are?” She muttered, “Answer me!”

  
Spencer stood nailed to the floor at the quick turn of events, “Mom?”

  
“No!” The quick change from her muttering to a yell was so drastic that it made Spencer jump. “I swear, I will call the police if you don’t tell me who you are right now!”

  
The boy shook his own head, disbelieving that his mother could have an episode come on this quickly, “Mom? It’s Spencer. Do you want to lay down and rest again?”

  
Diana made a noise much like a hiss at her son, “You are NOT my son! My son would never have such disgusting… THINGS, like those on his head!”

  
Her anger clearly was here to stay and Spencer, in his hurt, didn’t know how to diffuse the situation this time, “Mom?”

  
“NO!” His mother bellowed, in her escape from him, she threw whatever remained in her cup at him, spilling what smelled like steaming tea all along Spencer’s left hand and arm, making him shout in pain. Diana took her moment to run out of the house, her feet bare, her eyes wild.

  
“Mom, please!” Spencer yelled as he went to go run after her, his mind only focusing on his mother, and not the scales forming a protective layer where the freshly made tea had burned him or any or the other changes happening to his body.  
Tunnel vision set in and Spencer watched as his mother ran out the previously locked door, and into their driveway, “Please, mom! Just listen!”

  
She shook her head, only barely could Spencer hear her mutters, “It’s not real- not again.” Her hands came up to clutch her head, barely hanging onto the composure that she had left.

  
Spencer’s eyes were dripping with tears, yet he still pushed forwards taking small steps closer as he spoke, “Please mom. It’s me. It’s Spencer.”

  
Diana whipped around to look at the boy, still too small for is age, “My Spencer could never a freak like you!” Her voice cracked and wavered as a battle ripped her mind apart, multiple sides all trying to come to the forefront with no one succeeding.

  
All Spencer could do was watch as his mother screamed and pulled at her own hair, pushing and clawing at Spencer anytime he even tried to get close. It wasn’t until her eyes glowed in the dark night and her mouth stayed open in a silent scream that Spencer was able to get close enough to her to catch his mother as she collapsed onto herself, pulling them both down to the gravel driveway.

  
Sirens could be heard in the distance, and neighbors were peaking out of windows, watching the normally quiet boy and his mother as the events unfolded.

  
The boy wept while his mother laid eerily silent, her head on his leg as the sirens got closer and closer. Spencer felt that familiar itch at his head but disregarded it, only reaching up to wipe the tears still steadily falling from his eyes.

  
The simple action was enough to call his attention to the arm that now was covered in scales, and where his normally formal cut nails were now claws that extended a few inches and curled at the tips. His own breath caught in his throat as he noticed the hypersensitivity in sounds as well, specifically the sirens that he thought were right nearby, were still miles away.

  
It was only a second that passed before Spencer was reaching for his mother’s hand, kissing their joined hands, before he was up and running from the house he had lived at for almost 13 years, his neighbors watching as the boy they all thought they knew, ran away from his own mother still laying on the graveled path.

  
Where Spencer was running, he didn’t know. All he knew was Mutants got a bad rap, and if a crime could be blamed on one, then it would be. He knew better than to stick around for police to show up, the moment one of them saw his scales, he would be done for.

  
So, he ran, and ran, and ran, only stopping to beg for a couple bucks off the streets to buy granola bars and water. Also stopping at a couple dumpsters until he found a large hoodie that could cover his scaled arm and clawed hand, his long hair was enough to cover his forehead.

  
Otherwise, he kept running. Only hitching rides when he absolutely had to; whether it be bad weather conditions or when he was in danger. His own two legs took him most of the way north-east, his eidetic memory supplying the states as they came; Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and finally New York.

  
His traveling took years, and he met other mutants on the streets as well, yet he never stayed in anyplace longer than he felt he could. It wasn’t until he made it to New York at the age of 16, that he stopped to rest for longer than a month. New York was the only place where Spencer felt hidden enough to stop and breathe.

  
In the three years of traveling, Spencer’s abilities didn’t extend much further than what they currently made it to. He learned how to retract and extend claws from both his hands and feet, and his senses were enhanced.  
Sight, smell, and hearing were the most pronounced and helpful for living on the streets, leading Spencer away from danger more than once.  
As for the rest of him, he never seemed to gain anything else.

  
He heard stories from other mutants about their first coming into of abilities, and from the information that he gathered, it seems like he is stuck halfway between his abilities. Spencer found that most mutants have a primary mutation, like an enhanced ability, elemental manipulation, mental abilities and so on. However, he also found that many mutants have a lesser, secondary ability, like healing, and empathy.  
As for himself, Spencer thought he was able to distinguish his enhanced senses and physical mutation as at least one or two Yet, that is where the trouble lies for him as he is currently trapped in a halfway form of some reptile-man.

  
Some along his traveling have tried to help teach him, yet no one has been able to fully extend his abilities into something less unreliable. Few have helped him make a little progress, as seen by his ability to finally retract his claws, yet never close enough to fully understand the extent of his mutant abilities, thus leaving Spencer to his current accommodations.

  
The lanky boy sat in the crevice of his most recent hideout, still too cautious to stay in any one spot longer than a month, he had found out the best places and communities to stick around, and the current city he had been in for the past couple weeks has been good to him. Large cities such as New York, and Albany were better for begging because of the massive amount of people and travelers. However, that did not make them good places to live. Crime was more common there, and it was always likely to turn a corner and find people that were not too keen on someone trespassing in their claimed area.

  
That’s how Spencer found himself in a city called Poughkeepsie, it was still much more populated than what he normally looked for, but he was currently trying to obtain and save more money in hopes of making himself a plan to get off the streets. People seemed to be kinder here too, most likely because he has been a regular face as of lately.

  
Spencer shook his head from his wandering and focused back to his current position under a beaten bridge. There was a light sprinkle of rain that could soon be pouring, and he knew to get comfortable for the night before it hit. His hoodie was pulled further over his head to keep out some of the whipping wind and his legs pulled up underneath his chin. He sighed into the cool air and let his eyes rest as he tried to turn off his mind to sleep, only after the rain started to pick up, and the droplets could be heard echoing through his bridge shelter, did he finally start to drift into a light slumber.

It wasn’t until Spencer’s unconscious mind sensed a presence nearby, did he lift from his light sleeping, and immediately his body was on high alert, his nails were already starting to sharpen and grow for the assumed threat. His mind sifted through all the possible people that could be coming by at this time, and no one good came up as his result, giving him further encouragement to position himself into a defensive position, ready to fight, or run.

“Ow, shit.”

  
The loud cursing had Spencer’s concentration wavering for just a moment, but he quickly snapped out of it once the intruder pushed themselves out of the thick shrubs. The man looked to be in his mid to late 20’s with buzzed off dark hair and average clothing. The fact that the man’s clothing wasn’t torn or too dirty told Spencer that he most likely was not homeless, though still very much a threat.

  
The man finally caught sight of Spencer and instead of backing off, proceeded to get closer, “Hey kid! I knew I could find you down here.”

  
That had Spencer furrowing his brow but keeping up his clearly defensive state, “Back off man, I don’t know you.” He purposely pitched his voice deeper and puffed out his body to seem bigger, but the oblivious man kept his strides long until he was close enough to Spencer to cause for concern.

  
“Ahh yes, well you see, I know you.” The man crouched down, clearly not fazed by Spencer’s enlarged claws and unwavering eyes, “I know you, Sauro, and I am here to offer you a deal.” The man’s own eyes seemed to almost glow an icy blue that had Spencer wanting to turn away.

  
Spencer felt fear but knew to be weary of people that already knew of him, especially people that knew his street name, Sauro, and for that was the only reason Spencer spoke again instead of running, “I’m listening.”

  
The man smiled, “I know you are, why don’t we take this somewhere dryer.”

  
Before Spencer could even deny the offer, the man was already straightening himself and walking back the way he came, through the still dripping foliage. The boy ducked out from his spot and watched the mysterious person leave, clearly confident that Spencer would follow. Giving half a mind to just leave the city, Spencer thought differently and figured he would give the man a chance. Maybe not one of his better ideas, but he had been running for so long and even a chance at something different would be a gift in his eyes.

  
So, with only a bag he had slung on his back and a quick check to make sure he knew where the man was going, Spencer followed the dark figure as it lead him away from his current life, not even sure why he was following him in the first place, but there seemed to be no turning back now.  
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Spencer carefully ducked back into the rundown building for the day, the broken window he used to get in and out still had sharp pieces of glass hanging off the top and he knew the perfect way to move his body to slip right underneath them. Spencer only went out during the night, much to the man’s, Petja, annoyance.

  
Petja knew Spencer could get more done if he were to work during the day, and though Spencer may agree with that, he refused to ever be out while the sun was out. He found that it was easier this way, everyone would be too worried about themselves before they go staring at a mutant running past.

  
“Hey Sauro. How’d it go?”

  
Spencer looked up to the same man he had seen from underneath that bridge a year ago. His hair had grown out of the buzz cut he had, but otherwise, the man was the same. His dark skin was almost golden from behind the fire that was slowly dying out and his clothes looked fresh from being washed.

  
A roll of Spencer’s eyes was all that had to be said to answer his question.

  
“Ahh, I gotcha.” He stood up and dusted of his pants, “You know, I still have that extra room open, it’s yours if you want it.”

  
The 17-year-old gave him a deadpan look and Petja put his hands up in defense. “Yeah, yeah, the whole ‘I don’t mess with people and only go out at night’ Isn’t that gettin’ old?”  
Spencer was removing his large jacket as the man kept speaking, “I have a room that you can be protected in, why wouldn’t you take that?”

“Stop it Petja, we’ve gone through this. Until I can safely say what my mutations are, I refuse to ever stay there.” All Spencer wanted right now was to curl up by the dying fire and go to bed before his next night parole, yet the incessant complaining coming from the man in front of his was enough to keep his eyes open. “You’re housing kids there, keep them safe.”

Petja’s fists clenched while the jacket that Spencer had just torn off was lifted from the ground and thrown into the boy’s face, “You’re a kid too, so your ass should be over there were I can keep an eye you”.

“I’m tired of this,” Spencer shook out his too long of hair and set out to make himself comfortable for the day’s rest, turning his back on Petja “We do this every day. Why can’t you just drop it?”

“Why don’t you just agree?”

When he didn’t get a response, Petja sighed, “The silent treatment, real original. Fine. You win for now; I’ll see you on the streets tonight. 9 o’clock sharp?”

A mumbled “10” was all that he got, making him laugh just a little.

“Yeah, alright, 10.”  
Petja made his way out of the small building, grumbling in good nature but still a bit frustrated that he still couldn’t get the kid to a safer place with more people around.  
Spencer heard him the whole way out, his enhanced hearing picking up on him even after he was out of the building but didn’t move from his spot. He was familiar to this conversation; it was one they had every week, but Spencer was stubborn and would refuse his invitation until he knew how much of a threat his own mutation was. Only when they could properly plan for the whole extent of his mutation, would he ever even consider going to live in a closed off building. Especially when there would be children in every part of that place, children that were just there to get off the streets of New York.

  
Just the thought of possibly hurting innocents had a chill going down Spencer’s spine, he could never live with himself if he did.

Spencer must have only been asleep for a few hours when a rustling at the window had him sitting up from his spot. A scent check had him relaxed enough to know that it was Petja coming in, but the smell of sweat had the mutant’s head cocked to the side as the man hopped into the only room of the building, “Sauro, we have to go. Quick.”

“Hmm?”

Petja was already trying to get a sleepy Spencer off the floor, gathering his hoodie and throwing it at him to get him going, “Hurry! I got word that there is an outsider looking for you. From the sounds of it, they already attacked a few on their way here.”

That was enough to have Spencer up and putting his hoodie on to cover his scaled arm and forehead in case this person knew what they were looking for. “What do you know about them?”

“They know about your mutation and they know you’re in New York. Apparently, they’re still a couple cities over, but word has been spreading fast.”

Spencer followed the man out the building and took up a steady pace next to him as he was led away from his shelter, “How do you know all this?”

Petja shook his head, “There are people tracking them already, the group knows this person is dangerous and that they are coming to this city. Some of the regulars at my safe house have talked to these trackers, said their good people.” Abruptly he took a sharp turn through an alley and Spencer nearly tripped over his own feet, trying to keep up while still weary without proper sleep, “Sorry Saur.” A brisk check to make sure Spencer was still following, and they were off again; Petja continuing to speak as they moved. “These trackers are very familiar with this person, but don’t seem to be familiar with you. That seems to be all we can bank on in case we can’t trust that tracker group.”

“Why is this hunter after me though?”

Again, Petja shook head and crossed a busy street, speaking quieter now than before. “I’m not sure. You seem to have caused a stir on your way here,” when Spencer stuttered in his walking, Petja hooked an arm around his shoulders but otherwise kept moving, “Not with police or anything, and nobody seems to know the whole story, just that there was a young mutant on the run. That doesn’t seem sketchy enough for someone to be this determined to get to you though.” Abruptly they stopped and Spencer was pulled under a canopy, away from the bustling people.

Petja looked from side to side and ghosted his hands above Spencer’s shoulders, not quite touching him, but getting his attention to talk to him straight on, “I need you to tell me what happened on your way here. You said you traveled on foot from Vegas? Did you meet anyone that could hold a grudge like this? Someone who asked just a couple too many questions?”

Spencer’s brilliant mind ran through all the names and faces of the significant people he ran into on his way here. People were logged away as ‘sketchy’ and ‘harmless’ but there was no one that really came to mind immediately.  
With a grunt, Spencer was once again being pulled behind Petja, this time there was no talking as they made it to a house. Spencer dug his heels into the concrete to stop Petja from pulling him further, “This is your safe house.”

“Yeah, now hurry.”

Spencer shook his head, “No. I refuse. You have children hiding here. I am not going in, especially now that we know there is someone following me.”

Petja’s eyes were icy as they stared down the shorter boy, “Not the time Sauro. Now get your ass in there.”

“No. I would rather die than put those kids in danger. You know that.”

The man wanted to reach out and pull the stubborn kid in by his wrist, but a reminder that this wasn’t just a kid, this was Sauro, had him stopping and controlling the iciness of his glare. “I know, but this is the only place I know you will be safe from this thing that’s after you.”

Spencer narrowed his eyes, keeping his claws in check and under his hoodie, “Two hours. That’s as long as I will stay before I walk out. I don’t care how much we figure out.”  
Petja grunted a quick agreement before pulling Spencer in through the safe house and closed the door behind them. Locks were engaged until it was sure that it wouldn’t open to the average person or mutant.  
“Come on, we need to talk this through.”

While mindlessly following behind Petja, Spencer couldn’t help but think of who could possibly be following him. It wasn’t until he was sat down in a sofa chair, in front of a table, did he pull back up out of his head. Petja was busy with a coffee machine, no doubt getting Spencer ready for talking that they had to do before anything could be planned about staying safe.  
The room that they were in was unsuspecting for the most part. Not what Spencer would expect from his friend, but his guess being this room was probably made as a first introduction room for newcomers. There was the low table in front of him that sat parallel to a larger sofa next to him, any decorations on the walls were general looking, and the kitchenette in the corner only had a mini fridge, a microwave, and a coffee machine; one that Petja was walking back from now.  
“Here.”

Both took sips from their respective coffees until it was Spencer that finally broke the silence. “I don’t have any clue who this could be.”

With a sigh, Petja took a seat on the corner of the table, in front of Spencer. “You must know. Surely someone wouldn’t be coming for you just because of something they heard from a friend. That’s ridiculous. As cool as you think you are, you aren’t Weapon-X special.”

Spencer snickered but the bad excuse of a joke was just enough to lift Spencer’s mood enough for him to really start thinking again, “After leaving Nevada, I didn’t spend any longer than a couple days in a single location. It wasn’t until I was near Kansas City that I really started talking to the locals.”

Petja nodded, “Then start there,” a flick of his hand had paper and a pencil racing through the air from the nearby counter until he caught them and traded Spencer his coffee for the utensils, setting both of the mugs down on the table behind him so he could lean forward with his arms on his knees. “Start with everyone that big brain of yours can remember. Name, alias, mutant abilities and give them a threat assessment. A simple 1-10 ranking will be fine. We need to work fast.”

They used paper after paper until Spencer was finally sure that he had written the most important people that he met on his journey to New York. There were names that could be immediately discarded as they were not mutants, or they did not possess the strength to cause harm, which easily knocked out half the names.

“What about a Landon Pacer, he was a mutant.”

Spencer shook his head, “He was stabbed by an aggressive John before I left for Cambridge in Ohio. That put him out of commission for a long time from what I heard.”

Petja crossed the name out and pushed on, they were almost done with the list but if nothing came from this, they would be force to go into this blindly, the idea alone had the man wanting to pack his safe house up and move an island in the ocean, dragging the kid in front of him along for the ride weather he wanted to or not. “Rahne, you listed her as a former mutant. What’s her deal?”

The name was one that Spencer had ingrained into his head; he owed any control over his powers to her. She was the only one that had taken the time to help him when he was being spotted as a mutant the further he traveled into the nearby city. “Pittsburgh, she taught me to retract my claws at will and travel during the night.”

That had the man sitting up straighter, “So she clearly knows you.”

Spencer nodded, “She probably knows me more than anyone I met on the streets, she was all I could count on for a while. Until she disappeared, we were close.”  
“What about her mutation?”

That had Spencer deflating, “From what she told me, she had the power of lycanthropy but a run in with another mutant had her stripped from any access to her mutation. Leaving her in her human form. That was the only reason why she could teach me what she did, we had similar animal-like mutations that worked about the same.” He stopped to sip from the lukewarm coffee, “We only got as far as my claws before she disappeared. I had no reason to stick around so, I ditched Ohio and set off again.”

“You don’t find her a threat though?” Petja seemed rather skeptical of the woman and did not bother trying to hide it.

“Not unless someone managed to restore her mutation, I don’t. She has a fire about her, but she can barely act on it when she’s in her human form, she told me that too.” Spencer shrugged his shoulders but further he thought about her, “She was telling me that she was looking to restore her mutation though. That there were people out there who could-“

Spencer was cut off by someone barging in through the door, he looked to be just a bit younger than Petja but the light blue skin was a clear indication of a mutation, “You gotta come here Pete. Those trackers that talked to Clyde yesterday are here.”

“Shit,” The characteristic cuss was muttered as Petja stood, yet held up a hand at Spencer as he went to stand as well, “It’s probably best if I handle them on my own. We don’t know what they’re here for, and they can’t be trusted.”

“I won’t just sit here.”

The man smiled. “I know Sauro. Just hang out for a moment. I’ll just tell them about this hunter they seem to be after and let them be on their way.” He pushed slightly at Spencer shoulder, keeping him seated. “I’ll be right back kid.”

“I am not a kid.”

Petja only chuckled as he walked with the other man, “Sure you aren’t.”

Once the door clicked shut and Spencer could hear the lock turn from the other side, did he finally take a second to breath. He could feel the itch around his eyes telling him he didn’t get enough sleep, something he knew, but the stress of a mutant following him had his eyes wide and alert.  
Spencer’s mind raced back to this stalker; he knew is must be someone significant to him but the thought of it possibly being Rahne had his brain pausing to really consider her. Had she found someone to restore her lycanthropy, then surely, she would not immediately come to find him.  
There were very few people in Spencer’s life at the time, and Rahne even less-so. Spencer was better and more in tune with the likes of other people, mainly so he had a backup for every plan, but Rahne only talked to Spencer and her recent boyfriend. At least that’s all that Spencer knew about.

Josh Foley, his eidetic mind supplied to him easily. Rahne talked about him often, but she purposely never talked about his mutation, if he even had one. All Spencer ever heard about was how he had gone back to school and the two could only meet up every so often.  
Spencer shook his head and rested his forehead on his palms, he did not have the energy to be thinking this hard without proper sleep or a better cup of coffee.  
Yelling from the door that Petja had recently walked out of had Spencer’s senses on high alert.


End file.
